Guy and Amalric of Lusignan, along with the main force, have been separated amidst the charge.

Aside from the two of them, there are more than a dozen cavalrymen.

Their heads down in the charge, surrounded by comrades, the narrow vision through the barrel helmet slits made them unaware of the fact they had drifted away from the main force.

They have become frenzied killers.

The hastily counterattacking Saracen soldiers, unable to find a commanding officer, could only fight individually, many soldiers in panic, driven like a flock of sheep, scattered and fled.

Even those wanting to rally for a counterattack were swept along by the fleeing men, exposing their backs to the enemy.

Wrapped in heavy armor, able to see in the night, the Crusader Knights were akin to committing unilateral slaughter.

Blood soaked their cloaks.

Even the emblems on their horses' clothing and armor were blurred by the blood.

At this moment, the flames in the campfire pits suddenly flared up.

They came together as if endowed with life, forming a giant entirely condensed by flames.

A clergy from the Fire Worship cult, dressed in white robes, stood behind the giant, cursing with rage: "Damn Frankish butchers, fall into the boundless Fire Prison! The sacred flame shall grant you just punishment!"

He waved the wooden staff in his hand.

The giant's fiery mouth opened wide.

Bang—

A fireball formed of flames was spewed from the giant's mouth, like a bomb, into the ranks of the Crusader cavalry.

Three nearby knights were engulfed in flames in an instant.

A nearby knight, his steed startled and raised its hooves.

He fell to the ground, gazing at the charred remains ablaze, he cried out in anguish: "Brother!"

He struggled to rise from the ground, not deterred by the enormous fire giant.

He tore off the metal cross hanging from his chest.

The top of the cross was a sharp spearhead.

This was his ancestral demon-breaking tool.

If Losa were here, he would certainly recognize it, clearly as a cross made of Demon-Blocking Gold.

"Burn, burn him to death, don't let him come!"

The white-robed clergy saw the cross, his face revealed panic, hurriedly maneuvering the fire giant to rush at the knight.

Demon-Blocking Gold is not particularly rare.

Many churches have such metal "exorcism tools."

The legends sung by minstrels, of knights slaying evil dragons and killing wicked witches, aren't all false.

After all, in terms of evil dragons, there are ancient dragons over a thousand years old, tens of meters long, and those recently born or never growing larger, only a few meters long.

Wizards are so few among the world, besides pursuing different paths, it's mainly due to fearing being caught in human conflicts and losing their long life.

Who would want to exchange their fate with those mortal knights, whose average life span is only decades and may soon lose their lives in reckless combats?

"Go die, heretic demon!"

Yet the knight had long been enraged by his brother's death, undeterred by the oncoming heat wave, he lunged forward, thrusting the cross into the white-robed clergy's chest.

Instantly, the fire giant disappeared into smoke.

The Demon-Blocking Gold hindered the flow of magic power within the white-robed clergy.

The knight fell to the ground, during the brief contact, his cloak was already ablaze, and the surface of his armor even turned red from the high temperature.

Guy seized the opportunity, bent down from his warhorse, picked up a Throwing Spear from the ground, and hurled it at the white-robed clergy.

The next moment, the Throwing Spear pierced through the clergy's chest, blood foamed from his mouth, his already wounded body was deprived of the last trace of life force.

Guy gasped heavily, the high temperature made him sweat all over.

He removed his helmet, glanced around, and abruptly said: "Oh no, we've been separated from the main force, everyone, follow me!"

Amalric hastily replied.

"Brother, shouldn't we hurry and regroup with the main force?"

In the long palace life, he had long lost his bloodlust, compared to his brother, he didn't contribute much to the battle.

He hadn't perished purely because he valued his life, and being wealthy, the armor he wore was among the best in all armored cavalry.

Guy shouted: "Regroup, hell, brother, we've already charged this far, if we don't move forward, how can we earn merit? Do you wish to always rise through the ranks solely by skirts of women in the palace corridors?"

Amalric was stunned.

After a moment, he gritted his teeth and said: "Let's go, brother, let's accomplish something great once more!"

...

Losa continued to rally the troops.

Cavalrymen wearing various cloaks resembled a sharp spear, piercing straight through the Saracen's chest.

The enemy's counterattack was so feeble and weak.

The scattered infantry was extremely fragile in the face of a cavalry charge, especially when mixed with a large group of riffraff not much stronger than peasant recruits.

Along the way, countless enemies fell, while our own losses were negligible.

The light before Losa's eyes blazed brightly.

Ahead, finally appeared a structured enemy formation, a squad of infantry holding long spears, arrayed among the tents in scale armor, and the commander encouraging his soldiers loudly in Arabic.

In this world, it seems few Wizards have methods to enhance the combat abilities of ordinary people, and Casters seldom directly participate in worldly wars.

At least, under Saladin's command, there were no Casters like Furin who could grant night vision abilities.

But as they went deeper, the bonfires and torches became more concentrated.

The Saracen soldiers finally could roughly identify the outlines of the enemies, and though sometimes they reacted a beat slower, incidents of attacking allies mistaken for foes had greatly decreased.

"Ignore them, just crush straight through!"

Losa gritted his teeth and issued this order.

Though the long spearmen in formation relatively restrained the cavalry, it was only relative.

Few Cavalry Commanders would truly crash head-on into a spear formation.

Moreover, the enemy formation was too thin, a formation composed of fewer than fifty infantry simply could not withstand the charge of the Knights.

Boom—

The warhorses crashed into and flew one enemy after another.

But there was also a Winged Cavalryman, who during high-speed charge, was toppled off his warhorse by a long spear, fortunately, he rolled and relying on the flexibility of his half-body plate armor, dashed into a nearby barracks, avoiding being trampled by the following cavalry.

At the next intersection, more heavily armored infantry appeared, arranged in neat formations.

Losa immediately recognized them as the dismounted Mamluk heavy infantry, just like in the Crusaders, the most elite soldiers are always the Walking Knights. (Except for the Varangian Guard)

The Mamluk dismounted cavalrymen are also the most elite infantry in the Saracen army.

Without thinking, Losa shouted: "Spread out to both sides!"

The Knights directly followed the Winged Cavalry who received Losa's order and bypassed this dense enemy line.

Many of them didn't even notice those prepared infantry, just mechanically followed the direction of the comrades ahead.

Like a chessboard layout, the Saracen camp was full of gaps and places open for their galloping.

Time passed second by second.

Losa's armor was already stained with blood; he finally found the enemy's stables, but it was already surrounded by layers upon layers of over a thousand heavily armored infantry.

Losa realized that even if they breached the stables and managed to set fire here, the outcomes achieved would be quite limited.

And the loss could be the entire cavalry troop.

Clearly, it's not worth the cost.

He immediately changed course and decided to lead the troops to retreat.

Tonight's battle outcomes are already impressive, perhaps directly under their hooves fewer than two thousand people died, but due to the darkness, the camp chaos, trampling, and mutual attacks, conservatively estimated, that number could double.

Moreover, tonight's Saracens certainly cannot have a good sleep, and the soldiers who do not get proper rest can be expected to perform poorly the next day.

Tomorrow, the tides in attack and defense can change.

Soon, the entire cavalry troop charged out from the side of the enemy's camp, Losa chose a direction and left without looking back.

When counting numbers, Losa realized the cavalry troop's losses were also significant, over a hundred cavalry remained in the enemy camp.

Though most were scattered, Losa had to admit in such circumstances, the probability of survival when separated from the main troop was at most fifty percent.

And if waiting for the night vision ability to disappear, this probability would rapidly drop to ten percent!

Losa showed a hint of agitation on his face: "Even though we agreed on the retreat time, why are they still trapped inside?"

Baron Godfrey persuaded: "Tonight, our battle achievements are already enough; those who remain in the enemy camp... let them fight to the death, it's their honor."

Losa scrutinized around and found that Ulm and several other Winged Cavalry hadn't followed the main troop out.

He gritted his teeth and shouted loudly: "Everyone temporarily falls under Baron Godfrey's command; Winged Cavalry, follow me for another charge, I must attempt to rescue our comrades."

He wasn't acting recklessly.

Close to upgrading, he was just a step away but was mindful of being observed by the other cavalrymen under his command, thus not daring to exert fully.

He believed that even if this attempt could not rescue comrades trapped in the enemy camp, he could still retreat unharmed.

The Knights and cavalrymen looked at each other.

Someone immediately shouted loudly: "Grand Master, I'll join you, happens we haven't killed enough yet!"

"That's right, sir, you're not the only one unwilling to abandon comrades!"

The Knights and cavalrymen were filled with enthusiasm.

Losa's courage, fearlessness, piety, justice, wisdom, completely conquered them, even after leaving the Holy Land, they would surely sing praises of Losa's name.

They'd rather die alongside such a Commander-in-Chief, because it signifies "honor"!

People of this era often regard honor heavier than life.

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